This evening is the end of a good day. It began with a reminder from one of my readers about the 2nd anniversary of a special meditation class I previously attended. The timing is such that I am no longer able to participate, but by chance, today I could. It was a gentle and joyful experience and restimulated my original attraction to this group.
Reminders of heartfulness were popping up in several corners. Wendell Berry’s poem The Peace of Wild Things is a favorite and I have used it here a few times. However, today, at the Forest Bathing Studio, Emma played this short video created by the On Being program and featuring Wendell Berry reciting his poem in an animated backdrop. I found it delightful.
It was comforting to be outside and to notice and feel the warmth of the sun and listen to the ice melting. Sparkles everywhere lifted my spirits and I was inspired by a profound James Crews poem, featured on my friend Janice’s website.
I suggest you click the link on Heart Poems so you can see the commentary. You won’t be disappointed.
Losing Heart by James Crews
It’s not like misplacing the car keys
or forgetting your mother’s address.
You know it’s impossible to actually lose
the heart working so hard in the chest,
resting for only the slimmest of instants
between beats. Yet you wake some days
patting empty pockets, digging through
every drawer in the house, searching
under the bed and couch. In the space
of a night, the hope that burned bright—
flowing like a medicine in your veins—
can drain from the body, leaving you
bereft in bed and getting up only
to bathe yourself in the sickly light
of the fridge, the glow of screens.
Yet you can trust that the heart never
goes far, never abandons you for longer
than you can handle. You might be
driving to work one stormy morning,
scowling at every car that passes you
when it happens again—that sudden
leap in the chest as you see the rain-
slick blacktop shining blue in places
where it gives back the sky, and then
you’re anchored again in that faithful
rhythm by which you love the world.
Today I am simply scattering seeds on this page. True, mostly poetry, but look below and see the luscious spring flowers from Gabriola Island, and also what May Sarton has to say about idleness, or what I prefer to call restfulness or moodling time.
Importance of rest:
“I always forget how important empty days are, how important it may be sometimes not to expect to produce anything, even a few lines in a journal. A day when one has not pushed oneself to the limit may seem a damaged, damaging day, a sinful day. Not so! The most valuable thing one can do for the psyche, occasionally, is to let it rest, wander, live in the changing light of a room.” May Sarton, Journal of a Solitude
1:) I invite you to look for flashes of beauty this week. As Johann Wolfgang von Goethe suggests: “One ought, every day at least, to hear a little song, read a good poem, see a fine picture, and, if it were possible, to speak a few reasonable words.”
2:) It is shocking to me that I have encouraged my Ottawa family to get my granddaughter Sophie a dog. I know nothing about dogs and I didn’t want a dog but here I am, looking forward to meeting Sasha, in April. She is a medium Australiandoodle and will be about 40 pounds, for all you dog people. Looks like a great companion for Sophie and I suspect a wonderful asset for the entire family. In fact, we are all excited now.
3:) Speaking of dogs, I am now blushing thinking of what I am about to post. A short video called So God Made a Dog. This is thanks to my friend Nancy who is a dog lover and who has a beautiful dog, Levy, whom I grew attached to in spite of myself. Enough already. That’s it. No more talk of dogs on this blog.With the exception of the video. haha So God Made a Dog
4:) Thinking of you all, wherever you are, and sending all my best wishes, hopes, and love across the miles. Thank you for coming by here and for all your lovely emails and comments. Warmly, Trudy
5:) The banner photo is from a small tropical greenhouse I recently discovered in Ottawa and the pink flowers are Japanese double cherry blossoms, from Gottfried on Gabriola.